


Inventory of Moments

by optimise



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Coworkers - Freeform, Draco is kind of sneaky, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hate to Love, Marriage, No War AU, One Shot, POV Draco Malfoy, Pregnancy, They're Cute Though, and Hermione is super duper organised, like really fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9231953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/optimise/pseuds/optimise
Summary: Hermione makes a lot of lists. And a list of names just happens to be one of them.





	

When Draco first encountered Hermione Granger, four years after school to be precise, he didn't know what to expect. She hadn't changed much — terribly inflexible, always stubborn, annoying as hell, and still gorgeous (he'd _never_ tell her that part, though).

And then came the fighting in the office, determined by small things like — his inability to use her colour-coding system in the file cabinets and the accumulation of his weird herbal teas from Brazil in the break room. She was having none of his quirks. And the feeling was absolutely mutual.

But there was a part of Draco, mind you — a very small part, that felt a little flushed after their arguments, as if he needed something more from her than narrowed eyes and wagging fingers in his chest. He tried to ignore it the best he could by being harsher, _crueller_ , putting her down till the spark in her eyes died in his hands. That was an absolute _mistake_ — because soon enough, he found she just stopped talking to him entirely.

He'd try to goad her into saying something. _Anything_. But she'd simply harrumph, toss her jasmine-smelling and obviously bushy hair over her shoulder, and pretend as though his existence doesn't bother her in the slightest. It bothered the shit out of him. Like an itch he _needed_ to scratch but couldn't quite reach. Bloody annoying, really.

So, _yeah_ , maybe his downfall started when he walked into (not broke into, clearly, because Draco was _not_ a vagrant) Hermione Granger's office after hours in search for something tangible he could hold onto. Something he could use to maybe get those stupidly annoying butterflies out of his stomach whenever he saw her smile, which was not even directed at him but at someone else. Stupid Ernie Macmillan and his do-gooder persona that made her smile.

Luckily enough, Granger was a creator of lists. Lots of them. They were like an inventory of moments made to exist for her benefit. And Draco managed to stumble upon her plethora of sticky notes — in a different colour-coded system, _obviously_ — in a drawer on her desk, all of them depicting something or the other in list form. Of course, just by the excess amount of information probably stuffed in her brain by the amount of reading she plows through on the daily, Draco had expected some sort of outlet for Granger to spew out all her thoughts. But lists? He was pleasantly surprised. And also a little bit giddy. He read through every single list he could that night.

They were simple — starting with: _10 things that help metabolism_ and _8 reasons to attend that business course_ and _5 ideas to help get the mind flowing again._ Draco rolled his eyes and almost stopped reading after that. _Almost_. He'd always be glad he didn't, though.

The lists got more juicy, more personal. There was _7 things to be happy about_ and _14 times to think about when sad._ He almost felt sorry for her at that moment. And then there was _6 best colours to wear_ and _17 essential grocery items_.

And then in what he would later consider the climax of their work relationship, stumbling into something more, he found — _1 reason to hate Draco Malfoy_. The sticky note had merely said, 'because he's Draco Malfoy.' He laughed endlessly at her scribbly little handwriting and saved this list in the back of his mind permanently. And _that_ , he could work it. If she's writing lists about him, then obviously she cares enough write down things.

The next day at the office, Draco complimented her on her fine intelligence in the board room, something she would appreciate _way more_ than an obtuse backhanded compliment on her hair (because that's what he did, _always_ , even if she couldn't decipher his taunts). She eyed him carefully, took a sip of her earl grey, and walked away without another word.

That night, when he snuck into her office, he found another list. _1 reason to not hate Draco Malfoy_. It had said, 'because he's Draco Malfoy.' He smiled his cat-got-the-cream smile and nearly pissed himself in excitement.

And that's what he did for the upcoming weeks, waited till Granger left the office with her bubbly coworkers before sneaking into her overly organised room and shuffling through lists to figure out the little things about her.

Near the holiday season there had been _4 Christmas decorations to be bought_ and _18 holiday drink recipes_ and _3 gift ideas for Ginny._ And as the daunting layoff season began, there was _9 ways to not cry while firing people_ and _20 ways to approach those who are crying_. Heart of gold, she had. And also, a nice arse, but he kept that thought to himself.

And when Draco had finally crossed the boundary of acquaintanceship once again with her (as in, she acknowledged him again in the office), there started being little lists of _5 reasons why Malfoy is probably staring at me_ (the number one being she might have syrup on her face; that was definitely _not_ it) and _6 ways to stop thinking weird things about someone who hates you_ (weird was reading about her struggle to want to choke and hug him at the same time).

He lapped at the lists about him like a thirsty kitten — always eager to do something memorable during the day just so he can read about himself at night. Draco was terribly egoistical like that, he'll admit it.

And then he _finally_ realised his demise — he was in love with her. There was about eight seconds of bafflement, and then Draco immediately started scheming about ways to make her feel the same way. Because hell if Granger wasn't about to fall in love with him just the same way. He didn't want to be the only one plagued with this problem.

After a couple more weeks of nice gestures and the integration of lingering touches as he opened the door for her, he started to read lists that made him kind of bubbly inside. He was a sap.

It started going from _4 ways Draco Malfoy is a git_ to _7 ways to not admit a crush on a certain blond._ He thought that she'd probably be mortified at the fact that he was privy to reading her innermost thoughts every. Single. Day. But then he got over that quickly when he saw _8 things to think about in order to not blush in front of Malfoy_. He made her blush the next day, anyway — a comment about her cute little freckles did just the thing.

When he finally saw _1 reason why she shouldn't snog Draco Malfoy_ — which happened to say, 'because he hates me' — Draco finally decided to take a more direct approach in the wooing. He grabbed her after some boring meeting at eleven AM, pulled her into a storage closet, and kissed her breathless. For a long time. As in, _at least_ a solid ten minutes of kissing, clad with her soft sighs and his unconscious groans. But as soon as the good stuff started, the moment was over. She pushed him away with all the force she could muster, slapping him immediately. He clutched a hand over his red-tinged cheek as Granger told him to _never_ touch her again, stomping away with swollen lips and his heart _still_ in her hands.

That night, he couldn't help but grin like a fool when he saw _19 reasons why snogging Malfoy was really nice_. And he got to relieve her reasons the next day when Granger herself pulled him into a storage closet, giving them over an hour of heavy kissing for Draco to realise that there were _way more_ than 19 reasons.

He asked her out the next day when he saw _3 ways to sort of kiss Malfoy without seeming clingy_. And to his surprise, she said yes without a fight.

When he took her to a nice Italian place in the heart of London, she blushed beautifully as he told her just how much he fancied her. Yes, he was still a sap. And a closeted romantic, it seemed. With trembling hands as she scarfed down her thin Margherita pizza, she repeated the same words he longed to hear for months on end. It was set, then — he would keep her forever if he had the chance.

And forever he did.

Dating her started with lists like — _5 restaurants for date ideas_ and _6 gifts to get an arrogant boy who has the world_ and _9 ways he makes me smile daily_. It was the fuel to his fiery ego. Plus, it made him get all warm inside, but he tried to ignore that part. Because soon enough, the amount of sap that seeped out of him would stick to everything.

Before their first time, she had crafted the list _8 ways to have mind-blowing sex with Malfoy for the first time._ When they finally did the deed one night after eating ice cream on her couch, he kept in mind way number 6 — using ice cubes to run along her chest — and adapted the chocolate ice cream perfectly. And it's safe to say, she had _loved_ that one.

He never did tell her about his little game in reading her lists for fun; he probably never would at this point — they were in _too far_ for that. They had just exchanged 'I love yous' the past weekend, and like hell if she were to break up with him because he's a sneaky git with a problem in respecting privacy.

He proposed to her two years later — a smile appearing on his face when he snuck into her home office that night to read _1 reason why tonight was the best night of my life_. It had simply said, 'because I love him.'

Their marriage was a small affair — with white-laced tables and red velvet cake. That night, when she had fell asleep in his arms after a lot of tiring activities not to be mentioned, he tiptoed to her room, reading _10 reasons why I'm happier than before_. He was number one.

And then came the monotonous days of marriage — when she'd wake up earlier than him, plop a sloppy wet kiss on his forehead or his neck or his cheek, and leave with a small note (on the same sticky notes used for her lists, he noticed) saying goodbye and a portion of her coffee in the pot for him. He'd rub her feet when she was feeling extra upset about a fight at work, and he'd hug her tighter when he'd read a list about the pros and cons of hiding in a hole for the rest of her life.

She was still organised as ever, though, down to the point where she had a calendar tracking her monthly cycle and a chart to consistently wear different pencil skirts without repeating outfits. He never commented on _that_ part of her organisation skills.

One day, when he was busy trying to figure out how to cook spaghetti in a small pot (the bloody noodles just _wouldn't_ fit), Granger had entered the kitchen with a smile on her face and ink on her hands. He knew what that meant — she had just finished creating a list. He was near excited with nerves to read it later.

And when he did, his heart stopped for a mere second.

A mere second, mind you. And then he was dropping the list and running to wake her up and kiss her breathless while she was still half-asleep and groggy. She didn't mind much, though.

The sticky note was left on her desk, slightly torn from how hard he was gripping the piece of orange paper. She found it the next day and tutted him about how if he was going to continue reading her lists like he had done for the past three years, he better continue keeping them back in the appropriate places; she didn't have the energy to pick up after _two_ people now.

He glanced over her shoulder, splaying his hands on her stomach and propping his chin on the deltoid before both of them read aloud the list in particular.

 _20 different baby names_.

**Author's Note:**

> this is pure fluff, but i regret nothing. hope you enjoyed, yay.


End file.
